


Stamp! Thrust!

by alreadysomeone



Series: Boom! Boom! [3]
Category: JAG (TV 1995)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alreadysomeone/pseuds/alreadysomeone
Summary: This time around we’re back to Webb’s POV.  It’s Columbus Day, the post office is closed, Webb shows up at JAG, and who knew that October was Stamp Collecting Month!?
Relationships: Sarah MacKenzie/Clayton Webb
Series: Boom! Boom! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982134





	Stamp! Thrust!

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Boom! Boom! Series:  
> Boom! Thrust!  
> Strike! Thrust!  
> Stamp! Thrust!  
> Gobble! Thrust!  
> Boum! Pousser!
> 
> Timeline: Through the end of Season Seven

Monday, October 14, 2002  
A Post Office in Alexandria  
1042 Local 

“Yes, Mother I’ve seen Sarah MacKenzie since the Fourth of July.” 

She’s onto me. I knew Mother liked Sarah when I turned up with her on the Fourth of July. I haven’t said anything since then, but somehow she knows Sarah was more than just a platonic companion for the evening. 

“No, Mother, I didn’t see her on a date. Yes, Mother, I like her too.” 

I’m ready to be done with this interrogation. I haven’t figured out exactly what’s going on between Sarah and me; I surely don’t need my mother picking out caterers for the wedding. Thankfully she moves on to another topic. 

“I haven’t mailed it yet, I’m on my way now. What do you mean you think it’s closed?” 

I promised Mother I’d mail a package for her, but now she’s telling me the post office is closed today. How can the post office be closed today? Today’s the one day I need it to be open. I swerve suddenly to avoid a car making a left from the opposing stream of traffic and I’m glad I spent the extra money on the rack and pinion steering package. 

“What? I can’t hear you. I think I’m going out of range.” 

Hanging up my cell phone, I make a left into the parking lot, pull into a space right in front of the building, and notice that the lot looks suspiciously empty. Maybe it’s just my lucky day and there’s no line, I think, getting out of the car and hefting the package into my arms as I kick the car door shut with my foot. 

Why on earth Mother is sending her sister a box of books I’ll never know, but I think I’m going to suggest that she look into Amazon.com where they’ll ship directly to Boston. This box must weigh over forty pounds. If I don’t trip and break my leg it will be a minor miracle. 

I can’t really see over the box and when I reach out to grab the door handle to enter the post office I discover it is, in fact, locked. Damn. 

“They’re closed.” A familiar female voice informs me of the obvious. 

“Mac? Sarah?” I confirm. 

“Today’s the day Columbus re-discovered America, I’m surprised your mother isn’t throwing a party.” 

I put the package down, and while I’d normally be defensive about people taking a jab at my mother, Sarah endured Mother’s Forth of July party with such grace, I forgive her and we laugh together. 

Sarah’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a tight fitting light blue tank top. My eyes travel from her chest to the blue beaded choker she’s got on, and I think I lick my lips as I let my gaze travel the last stretch to her mouth. She looks casual, relaxed, and good. Very good. 

“Long time no see, Sarah.” I say with just enough edge to let her know that I’m referring to the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from her since our “encounter” in the bowling alley bathroom on Labor Day. 

“Is the ‘I was out of town’ line getting too old? Harm and I were working a case out at El Toro.” 

Now she’s eying me. I’m in a three-piece suit, nothing unusual, but as her eyes travel up my body I hope she likes what she sees. 

“What are you doing at a closed post office in Alexandria, anyway?” Putting the pieces together in my mind - the holiday and her casual outfit - I can’t work out why she’d be here. 

“I’m supposed to meet a new ‘Little Sister’ and I’m early. I saw the post office and thought I could stop in to get some stamps from the machine.” 

I surprise myself by detecting disappointment in my gut. I think I was wishing she’d come out here hoping to run into me. 

“So Colonel, does Columbus Day count as a national holiday?” Even if she didn’t come here with the intention of seeing me, running into her on a holiday fits the pattern we’re developing. 

I’d love to skip the meeting I’m due to attend and spend my time naked with Sarah McKenzie instead. The sexual chemistry we have is electric and invigorating. I wonder also what it’d be like to just spend *time* with her, and that scenario has a different kind of appeal. 

“Yes, I believe it *is* a national holiday.” Sarah smirks knowingly at me and a shot of adrenaline shoots to my groin, until she continues, “But I have to go.” 

“Me too, actually. I’m supposed to be at the office.” 

“That would explain the three-piece suit on a holiday. I think I like you better with fewer buttons to get past.” 

She winks and turns to walk away leaving me, my forty-pound package, and the beginnings of a hard-on standing outside the closed post office. 

Wednesday, October 16, 2002  
JAG Headquarters  
1400 Local 

“Goodbye Mr. Webb,” Tiner chimes as I leave the Admiral’s office. 

I’m trying to maintain the illusion that I really did have business here that required my personal attention. But I know I didn’t. Even though the other reports were couriered to their recipients, I hand delivered Chegwidden’s copy of the document on the UCMJ ramifications of the covert recruiting of military personnel for CIA ops. 

Issuing a curt “Petty Officer,” in reply, I make a bee-line for Sarah’s office. God, I hope Rabb isn’t around. 

I knock on the open door and stick my head into her office, but it’s empty. Just as well. I probably would have made a fool of myself anyway. I’ve been thinking about her non-stop since seeing her on Monday. Frankly, I’ve been having a hard time keeping my hands off myself. It’s getting to be embarrassing. A stray thought about Sarah during a meeting this morning and I had to “relieve” myself in my office at lunch. 

The smart thing to do would be to proceed directly to the elevators, go back to my office, call her later and ask her out to dinner like a grown up. Halfway to the hallway, I make a u-turn, promptly putting me in the path of Harriet Sims. 

“Mr. Webb!” 

“Sorry Lieutenant Sims.” She hurries on her way and I duck back into Sarah’s office before anyone else spots me. 

I lean over the desk and retrieve a pen before reaching to the inside pocket of my trench coat, which I’ve got slung over one arm. I pull out a document that I’d printed from the internet last night. On the top of the print-out I write a note: 

“Take your pick and e-mail me your choice.” 

I fold the paper in half and write “Sarah MacKenzie” on the outside. I debate for a moment where to leave the note and decide on placing it under the mouse of her computer. She won’t be able to miss it. 

CIA Headquarters  
1937 Local 

I fervently hope I wasn’t reading Sarah wrong on Monday. I really thought we were on the same page, and was feeling confident that she was up for another one of our holiday rendezvous. But it’s getting kind of late and she hasn’t responded to my note. I’m starting to regret leaving that print out of October holidays. “National Pharmacy Day” probably wasn’t very appealing, but I thought “Chemistry Week” held some promise given the intensity of the chemistry between Sarah and me. 

Frowning and rubbing at my forehead and eyebrows, I decide to call it a night, head home, and hope that when I wake up in the morning, this foolishness will all have been a dream – or that Sarah will be in bed with me and it’ll be more like a dream come true. 

One last look at my email before shutting down and I almost miss seeing her email among the dozens of junk emails I get. Double clicking on the subject line, which reads ‘Going Postal’ I wonder for a second if she’s forwarded me some inane joke. 

“Clay, 

Not sure if you wanted me to pick one of the single-day holidays … ‘Bathtub Day’ has already passed and ‘Newspaper Carrier’s Day’ seems inappropriate since my paper-boy is about 14 and besides, I think you intended this holiday to be between you and me. Yes? 

‘National Character Counts Week’ didn’t sound very sexy, but ‘Stamp Collecting Month’ caught my eye. It’s fitting in light of our meeting the other day at the post office. Plus, like a rare stamp, you’re kind of collectible, sometimes hard to find, and utterly lick-able. While celebrating with you all month has its appeal, I don’t think the Admiral would appreciate me going UA. I’m free any night this week though, come on over. 

Sarah” 

I’m grinning like a fool. Sarah’s got a playful side that I was surprised to discover this summer, but it’s addictive. Her serious, legal mind is nothing to dismiss either, and her sex appeal is unbelievable. It’s an intoxicating combination. 

Sarah MacKenzie’s Home  
2008 Local 

I’m pacing the hallway. I’ve been here before, but never for this purpose. Not that I wasn’t curious about Sarah MacKenzie’s bedroom the other times I’ve been here. But this is another matter entirely. 

I’m anxious, wound up, and my body is humming with adrenaline and desire. After forcing myself to go home, take a shower, and change my clothes, I couldn’t wait any longer. Thinking about Sarah’s body and how it will feel under my hands - under *me* – had me speeding all the way over here. 

The quick encounters we’ve had have been fun and exciting in a dangerous, almost dirty way. But I want to be able to take our time. There’s a raw sexuality we seem to bring out in each other; now I want to see what can happen when given the opportunity to explore and savor the experience. 

I hop up and down a couple of times, shaking my arms out to get rid of my nervous energy. Then I knock and strain my ears, waiting for footsteps. The door jerks open and I jump back, heart pounding in surprise and anticipation. 

“Clay. Hi. Come in.” Her voice is tight and it sounds like she’s reading a script. 

“I didn’t misinterpret your email, did I?” I blurt the question out harshly, noting that she’s still wearing her uniform. Jesus, that was rude. It’s not like I’m here just for a quick fuck. 

She hesitates before replying and in the pause, two scenarios play out in my mind. The first involves my nose again being broken at the hands of a JAG officer. The second is that maybe she *did* want me here just for a quick fuck, which has it’s benefits, but I was hoping for something less frantic. 

Finally she answers, “I hope not; tell me, *I* didn’t misinterpret …” 

I kiss her softly on the lips and that alleviates some of the awkwardness. This feels all wrong though. Our other “holidays” felt so easy. Maybe anything more than instant gratification isn’t meant to be between us. 

Sarah backs up, giving me room to step into the entryway as she shuts the door. “You want something to drink?” 

“Sure, ice tea?” 

“Make yourself at home. You look nice by the way.” She gestures to the living room and heads for the kitchen. 

I sit on the couch and smile to myself. I’d spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear; I guess the dark khakis and blue button-down oxford shirt were the right choice. I fidget with my collar and hope I didn’t leave too many buttons undone at the top; I don’t want to look sleazy or anxious. 

Sarah returns with two glasses but pauses as she gets closer, as though trying to decide where to sit. I scoot over on the couch as a hint and she takes it, sitting next to me as she hands me my glass. 

“Clay…” 

“Sarah…” 

We start talking at the same time, then laugh tensely. It’s out of some god damned romantic comedy. But apparently we’ve both given up on whatever it was we were going to say, because we’re concentrating on our drinks now. 

Our conversations in the past, even since the Fourth of July, have mostly been either work related or sexual banter. I’m finding that I want to know her in more than just those contexts, but I can’t seem to get my brain to work properly enough to start a conversation. 

Sarah sets her drink down on a coaster, takes the drained glass from my hand and places it on the table next to hers with a matching coaster underneath it. The awkwardness between us is deafening. I decide to just plunge ahead and say *something*. 

“I hope I wasn’t too forward, leaving that note for you.” We sort of covered this territory already, but I don’t know what else to say. In response, Sarah bites her lip and furrows her brow. Shit, this is bad, I shouldn’t have come. 

“No, but I was surprised to get it.” 

“Really? When I saw you at the post office, I thought for a minute we’d end up in a compromising position in the back of one of our cars.” I hope honesty’s the best policy in this situation. 

“That would have made an interesting story to tell my new Little Sister.” She laughs and I relax a little. Okay, this is starting to feel better. 

“Well, it did fit our pattern.” I try to sound innocent, playing off the distinctly not-so-innocent topic. 

“Don’t try to play naïve. You started this whole thing.” She points at me and lets her finger drop to my chest on the word “thing.” 

I look down to where her finger is denting into my shirt and warming a spot on my skin. With just that touch, there’s suddenly a sexual energy passing between us. I take her hand and turn it back on her, forcing her to point at herself before I let her hand go. I think I’m testing her to see if she’ll reach out and touch me again, proving that it wasn’t just me who started this, and that it’s not just me who wants this now. 

“As I recall, Sarah, you were not an unwilling participant.” 

“I was willing all right, and I’m willing now. But you know what they say, ‘fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.’ This makes three for us, Mr. Webb.” 

She passes my little test with flying colors as she holds up three fingers and mimics her earlier gesture, placing three fingers on my chest this time. 

“I could say the same thing to you. Do you think we’re being foolish?” I pick up her hand again, but this time I entwine our fingers together. 

“I guess we know we’ll have dates for all the holidays.” 

There’s no reason to be talking so quietly, nevertheless we’re practically whispering, our heads bending increasingly closer. We’re holding our joined hands between us, sort of gesticulating our fingers together and it’s really sensual. 

“Screw the holidays.” I can’t take any more of this double talk, so I kiss her. 

It’s not like the other kisses we’ve shared. This one’s shy but brimming with eroticism. It feels like we’re holding the floodgates closed. There’s also something questioning about this kiss, I don’t think there’s any doubt that this evening is a crossroads for whatever’s going on between us. 

I want to convey to her that she’s not just a “holiday whore” to me. I guess you could say that it started out that way, but I want there to be more to it than that. I hope to be able to demonstrate at least some of that in my actions now, if not through words later. Much later, because right now, Sarah’s got her hands at my shirt buttons. 

I let her get all the buttons through their little holes before reaching for hers. Thankfully she doesn’t have a uniform jacket on and there’s just the blouse to contend with. Plus, there aren’t that many buttons. Once both of our shirts are open, our hands explore bare and warm skin. It’s the first time she’s seen more of me exposed than just my pants around my ankles. She’s sliding her hands over my chest as I continue to kiss her, any hint of shyness long gone. 

The first time she grazes her nails over my nipples I suck in a quick breath and she smiles against my lips. In mock retaliation, I pull her blouse down her arms and trap them at her sides while I put a firm hand at her breast and bite the nipple through the brown cotton material. She gasps much the way I did, and I leave my mouth there momentarily while I nibble at her hard peak. 

Sarah tosses her shirt on the overstuffed chair next to the couch and she removes her bra. I stare at her smooth skin and raise my hands to touch her. I run the flat of my hands over her shoulders, down her arms, back up again, and she sits there still as a statue except for the deep breaths she’s taking. Her eyes close as I run my fingertips from her collarbones down the gentle slopes of her breasts past her nipples, and down farther to the flat plane of her stomach.

I push her against the back of the couch as I slide to the floor and kneel in front of her. Un-tucking the rest of my shirt, I toss it over to the same chair that Sarah threw her blouse and bra. Then I lean up and into her, pressing my chest against hers. Those fast fucks up against walls were fun, but this is so much more arousing. I take my time kissing her neck, biting at her shoulder, and lazily licking around her nipples; first one, then the other.

Returning to the first nipple, I bite at it with my lips, then my teeth before sucking it into my mouth and flicking my tongue across the hard tip. As I do, I feel Sarah shifting beneath me. I open my eyes, lift my gaze, and see that she’s looking down at me with lips parted in pleasure.

“God you’re good at that.” She runs her hands over my hair and lets her head drop back to the couch.

I bestow the same treatment on her other breast and by then she’s moving her hips against me, so I turn my attention elsewhere.

I swivel on my knees and slide the coffee table back, giving myself more room to maneuver. She’d already removed her shoes before I arrived, but she’s still got her panty hose on. I run my hands up her legs to the top of her hose and begin to tug them down. Sarah lifts her butt off the couch to help me and soon, they join the growing pile of clothes.

I return my hands to her thighs and find the edge of her panties, which I also dispose of. Now Sarah’s thinking ahead of me, which is good because I wasn’t looking forward to figuring out how that skirt was fastened at the back. She gets it undone and shimmies right out of it, giving me a smile when she tosses it over to join the rest of the garments. 

“I was wondering if I was ever going to get to see you naked, Sarah.” I place my hands on her knees and just stare. 

“You were wondering about me naked?” She sounds pleasantly surprised. 

“Guy’s gotta think about something on those long international flights. Of course any flight attendant will tell you, giving yourself wet dreams on an airplane is hardly good travel etiquette.” 

I can’t help being sarcastic, it’s just so easy and fun with her. But this time I don’t want her to get the wrong impression, so I quickly amend my answer in a less playful tone, “Seriously Sarah, I’ve been thinking about you naked with increasing frequency.” 

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you naked, too. Now come here and let’s take care of those clothes of yours.” 

She sits up and smiles while hooking her fingers in my belt loops. I topple to her and instead of taking my pants off, we get caught up in a kiss. Sarah parts my lips with her tongue and I open my mouth to her. We’re half on the couch, half falling off, but my mind is on how her tongue feels against mine, stroking and tasting me in tantalizing waves. 

I end up with one knee on the floor as we kiss and it gives me a good vantage point to feel my way up her leg, which she lets fall to the side, opening her legs for my touch. I take full advantage and slide my hand to her inner thigh, finally landing my thumb at her lower lips. She breathes a sigh into my mouth and I move off her and kiss the path my hand took up her leg. 

Kneeling on the floor, I look up and see that she’s watching me again. I leave one hand on her hip and part her lips with my fingers, making room for my tongue to reach out and just barely touch her clit, eliciting another gasp. I gradually allow more and more contact until I’m licking her in long, slow strokes from her opening to her swollen clit. 

Sarah leans back farther into the couch and puts her legs around my shoulders. I take the hint and stop teasing her, slipping a finger into her hot wetness. I feel her muscles clench around my finger when I work my tongue in circles around her clit, alternately kissing and sucking at her sensitive nerve endings. 

She feels and tastes so good; I want this and so much more. I want to know what Sarah MacKenzie tastes and feels like over every inch of her body. The consuming desire I’m feeling is filling my body and my mind, and I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with her. 

Sliding another finger into her passage, I angle my mouth a little differently over her clit and press my tongue more deliberately against her. Sarah surprises me by grabbing my hair and pushing my face to her even harder and I think she’s tossing her head from side to side. Her legs are shaking on my shoulders and I feel her entire body tense up just before her orgasm starts, squeezing around my fingers and racking her body with climactic spasms. 

Slowly pulling my face and hands away from her core, I kiss her thighs, hips, rib cage, and neck before hovering over her face to face. She’s still got her eyes closed, but she’s smiling in the smuggest way. 

“Feel good?” 

Instead of answering, she practically pounces on me and we’re all of a sudden on the floor. She’s got a knee between my legs and I’m looking up at her still-beaming face. 

“Clay, you sure know how to treat a woman.” 

“My mother taught me right. But this probably wasn’t what she had in mind when she told me that a gentleman always lets the ladies go first.” 

Sarah and I laugh at the running jokes we’ve got going about my mother. She apologizes for being so disrespectful and teases that she’ll make it up somehow. 

“Okay.” I agree as Sarah begins to pull at my belt buckle. She slides the belt from my pants and playfully slaps the leather against my side. 

I make no effort at revenge, and lie back to watch her gracefully undo the button and zipper on my pants. She’s being extra careful not to touch my erection, which I’m sure she’s avoiding on purpose. Tease. When she moves her hands over my crotch again to peel open my fly, I thrust my hips upwards, hitting my erection right into her palm. 

Sarah relents and caresses me through my boxers, pausing a moment later to strip me of my shoes, socks, pants, and underwear. The pile of discarded clothes is complete now. I know she’s seen this particular part of my anatomy before, but I feel self-conscious and really exposed lying totally naked underneath her. But, as she’s been since we began this new aspect of our acquaintance, Sarah is playful and sexy. 

She runs her hands up my legs, crawling on her knees until she straddles me and toys with my cock, rubbing it against her sex and stroking me up and down. 

“God Sarah.” She’s so sexy, I swear no one’s ever touched me the way she does. 

She raises herself up and just as I think she’s going to plunge down to cover my erection with her tightness, Sarah backs off and kneels between my legs. Steadying herself by placing her hands on my hips, she lowers her mouth to my groin and licks her way around my balls and up my cock. 

“Stamp Collecting Month, right?” I query, seeing the merits of “philately” in a new light. 

Sarah takes me into her mouth and moves her hands down to my thighs where she traces light patterns increasingly higher, until she’s got her fingers playing at my balls while her mouth and tongue suck and caress my cock. But if there’s much hope of intercourse tonight, she’s going to have to stop licking and switch to those self-adhesive stamps. 

“Come here,” I breathe in one last valiant effort to be a gentleman, before I come in her mouth.

Sarah lifts her head up and replaces her mouth with a hand on my cock, pumping me in hard firm strokes. I might come from this just as easily; she’d better make up her mind, and soon. 

“There’s plenty of time for that later,” she answers, “Unless duty calls and you have to run off to fight for freedom and democracy.”

“I thought that was Rabb’s job.” Always the smart aleck, I know. 

“Clay, don’t talk about Harm,” Sarah scolds before returning her mouth to me. She keeps her hand around the base of my cock as she moves her mouth up and down, slithering her tongue back and forth across the sensitive underside of my head on the up strokes. 

I can’t help thrusting my hips up and down in rhythm with her, and I feel all my muscles tighten in that blinding moment just before release. As I come, I feel Sarah licking and swallowing and never letting up as I groan in pleasure and concentrate on the radiating waves that seem to start where her tongue is and flow all the way out to my extremities. 

I’m panting hard and staring at her ceiling, my eyes focused on infinity. Sarah releases me gently and I hear her pad into the kitchen and run the water for a while. I want to tell her what I’ve been feeling, but am positive that now is not the time. Post-coital, or post-blow job, is not the time to impress upon a woman how much you really care about her, even if it is the truth. 

The point of telling her how my feelings are growing for her is to make her understand that, for me, this isn’t just a holiday thing anymore. The last thing I’d want is for her to mistake my sincerity for simple carnal gratitude. 

I sit up and lean on my elbows to watch her re-enter the room. “At least we managed to get all our clothes off this time,” I venture. 

She laughs easily, looking really comfortable in my presence as she sits naked on the floor, her back leaning against the couch, long legs draped over mine. “We didn’t make much of an effort to make it to the bedroom though. You’d think we’d never done it in a bed before.” 

“Well, *we* haven’t.”

I’m really hopeful that she’ll ask me to spend the night, in her bed. Even though I’m sure I could muster another hard-on in about twenty minutes or so, I wouldn’t mind just curling up with her and going to sleep. I *am* falling for her. 

Before either of us can make any suggestions for what the rest of the evening might hold, my cell phone rings from the pile of clothes. I have to answer it. It’s rare that I’m completely off duty, but it’s also rare that I can’t handle most issues over the phone. I hope this isn’t one of those rare other occasions. 

Untangling our legs, I get up to dig the phone from my pants’ pocket “Webb.” 

It’s the Director of Counter Intelligence Ops. This can’t be good. “Yes, no. He should already have it. I can’t believe he’s leaving us hanging like this. I’ll be at the airport in…” I check my watch, “two hours.” 

I hang up and turn back to Sarah, “Looks like I do have to go fight for freedom and democracy.”   
I’m disappointed and Sarah’s already handing me my clothes, “Bathroom’s just down the hall, if you want to clean up a bit before you leave.” 

“Thanks. I really wanted to stay longer.” There’s disappointment in my voice. I’m also suddenly exhausted, wanting more than ever to get in bed and hold Sarah as I doze off. 

“I understand. Job hazard. I suffer from the same thing, remember?” 

She’s amazing. Of course it makes sense that she understands, a military career shares certain aspects with Company life. 

I quickly rinse off in her shower and feel real regret that I didn’t say anything earlier about how I’m feeling. There’s no time to start that conversation now, as I’m running out the door headed for Southeast Asia with no idea of how long I’ll be gone. 

I finish dressing and return to the living room to put my socks and shoes back on. Sarah’s put on a loose fitting pair of soft looking pants and a snug Navy t-shirt. I get a bitter jealous taste in my mouth and hope that shirt’s got nothing to do with Rabb. 

She sits quietly on the couch, right where she was when I was going down on her about forty-five minutes ago. I sit next to her to tie my brown oxford shoes. 

“I know we haven’t talked about this, and it’s all been kind of … fast. But I really would love to take you out sometime.” I concentrate on my laces in case she turns me down. I don’t want her to see the disappointment that I’m not sure I’d be able to hide in spite of my training. 

“I’d like that. Should I be worried about you while you’re gone?” 

She already sounds worried, so I finish tying my shoes and kiss her. I’m ridiculously happy that she’d be worried about me, but I try to reassure her that I plan on coming back as soon as I can, and all in one piece. 

“I usually manage to get away unscathed. It’s only when JAG officers are involved that things go wrong.” 

She rolls her eyes and shoves me off the couch. We walk to the door and kiss long and hard until I really have to leave. As I turn to go, Sarah pulls me back and kisses me again before whispering, “Be careful,” and finally letting me go.

END


End file.
